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Springtime in Paris

29 Mar

Today, some snaps from a weekend in Paris, which I took a couple of weeks ago but haven’t had a chance to put up  – this long weekend is lovely but it has made this week rather busy. It was a Eurostar trip: we caught the train after work one Friday and were back in London by Sunday evening. I’ve called this post Springtime in Paris in an attempt at English irony: there was no spring. Well, not much anyway.

We’ve started thinking of these city breaks as inspiration trips. Expect this sounds rather pretentious but the rule is that there’s no pressure to see any of the sights: it is enough simply to hear a different tongue and wander by  (to say flaneur here really would make this seem pretentious). The change of scenery is enough.

Something from St Germain first. We stopped for a small market, those macaroons, handcream, which, I noticed yesterday, is also favoured by Jane Cumberbatch , plimsolls for the three days of summer we’ll have later in the year, and lots of window shopping and pressing of the nose against the glass of galleries and antiques dealerships.

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Then a bike ride along the Seine on one of Paris’ brilliant dual-carriageway cycle paths. I’m not a great cyclist and so was pleased to have got by with only one potential encounter with a Citroen. ‘You nearly went splat,’ my fella said. He can so alarmist. The car was miles away. Truly.

Along then, to the Promenade Plantee. New Yorkers may like to think they’re awfully smart on elevated parks and redundant railway lines with their Highline – I’ve blogged about it here in the past – but the Promenade Plantee pre-dates it by a long way, having been designed in the eighties and early nineties as part of a larger regeneration programme around the Bastille. The original railway line is reported to have operated between 1859 and 1969.

While the Highline is all soft, informal planting from Piet Oudolf, it stuck me that this was a very Parisian arrangement and also of its time: symmetrical and clipped with trained roses and reflective pools.

With this winter dragging on, the surrounding buildings were beautifully stark. We were the same height as the branches of the trees.

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I loved the facades of these buildings, which you just wouldn’t notice if you were on the ground 10 metres below or if the trees were in leaf.

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French shutters.

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And some of 80s architecture. I liked the contrast between the old buildings and these new blocks. It felt a little like London’s East End – isn’t there an elevated railway line around Bethnal Green which could benefit from a similar treatment?

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About the only sign of spring.

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A little Parisian insouciance.

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Guardian at the Pont du Caroussel on the river, near the Tuilleries.

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Final shot, near Gare du Nord and a nice, safe distance from the crowds heading up to the Sacre Coeur.

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Commuter Soundtrack

19 Mar

Thank God for longer, if not warmer, days at this time of year.  I was in danger of turning into a mole, with near redundant eyes, a heightened sense of smell – especially for sweet potato gratin – and a warm pelt removed only for sleeping and known as, for not awfully clever reasons really, the Bulawayo Celebration Shrug. These days, however, when it is time to go home in the late afternoon, it is pleasing to look outside and feel mild surprise upon seeing the remaining daylight.

The birds are getting busier, too. I know it is a matter of life and death for them but the chorus I woke to and then came home to yesterday was beautiful. I am not yet terribly good at identifying particular species (I’ll raise you a South African piet-my-vrou for every English tree-creeper) but I do know a blackbird when I hear  one. Especially when it sounds like this:

If you are interested in the subject, you might look at the RSPB online bird identifier, which helpfully has robin, black bird, feral pigeon and mallard as a starting point. Poor old feral pigeons. They have such a bad press.

Muddy Knees and Elbows

26 Feb

It’s difficult to think of spring with the wind howling down the hillsides and small, dry snowflakes falling from a sludgy sky most persisitently. Still, here and there, there are green shoots and heartening spots of colour. I’ve been walking past daffodils, snowdrops and crocuses for a week or two now and certain trees and shrubs have that tell-tale swelling at the end of their stems: inside them, wrapped up tightly, is a leaf or petal.

The presence of early spring bulbs brings to mind a former editor who insisted upon all her garden photographers coming back from shoots with muddy knees and elbows – she was quite allergic to receiving envelopes stuffed with trannies uniformly taken from chest height.  This presented challenges. I was learning at the time and eager to please, so I soon knew to wear longer length t-shirts with low-rise jeans if I was going to be out and about, particularly if the location was somewhere rather smart, as it often was.

Knees-and-elbows was a great lesson to learn, however, and I think it’s a lesson for life, too. Isn’t it amazing how different things seem, usually for the better, with a change of perspective.

Here, crocuses from Kew.

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Three Cheering Finds

29 Jan

Three cheering finds to ward off the winter blues today.

If you are a follower of things handmade you may well be aware of a beautiful the new quilting title, Quilt Love, by the talented  Cassandra Ellis. She quilts in the way I would love to, had I the skill, steering the art away from that rather fussy look to something altogether more contemporary. And she sounds so nice:

Making makes me happy, whether it’s a quilt, a lovely meal or a getting my hands dirty in the garden. I love to be the catalyst for special projects for the community, based around helping people to live better

Fortunately, Cassandra takes commissions and offers workshops in South East London and at Charleston House, the East Sussex property once home to various members of the Bloomsbury group (see the interiors painted by Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant).

Cassandra Ellis Quilt Love nap

Once you have commissioned Cassandra to make you a quilt, you may well consider including block-printed fabric from Kiran Ravilious, a Leicester designer and printmaker who draws inspiration from an upbringing in Singapore. Kiran is inspired mostly by plant forms and carves her designs onto Japanese lino before handprinting them onto a chosen fabric. Aren’t these, leafy, tropical motifs lovely?

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Finally, a recipe from Nigel Slater for a warming Asian squid dish, taken from Tender Vol 1, p249. I would post the image of the whole squid – with eyes, eggs (?), beak and innards – that I prepared for this in a fit of enthusiasm, but it is not one of those beautifully moody shots in which even the most mundane things are somehow romaticised with a bit of soft focus and vignetting. No. In my snap, the eye stares out as if to question its fate: ‘Are you really going to do this to me?’

West Country squid, caught off the Cornish coast, is pretty sustainable and quick to cook – two very good things. Nigel, admittedly, suggests having a fish monger clean the squid for you.

Chinese greens – 2 large handfuls
large red chillies – 2
ginger – a thumb-sized piece
400g prepared squid – bodies and tentacles
nam pla – 2 tablespoons
soft brown sugar – 2 teaspoons
lime juice – 2 tablespoons
vegetable oil – 2 tablespoons
basil leaves – large handful

Blanch the greens and drain. Open up the dried squid bodies, cut into pieces and score with the tip of a knife. Combine the lemon juice, nam pla and brown sugar. Set aside. Fry the squid for no longer than two minutes in the oil, with chopped garlic and sliced chilli (seeds removed). Pour in the fish sauce mixture when the quid is beginning to brown. Fry a little longer before adding the blanched greens. Toss in the basil, leave to wilt, then serve. (Summarised instructions – do see the book for more detail.)